


do me a favour

by breakeven



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Condoms, Crack, Dental Dams, Fluff and Crack, M/M, Prompt Fill, This Is STUPID, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-01
Updated: 2015-04-01
Packaged: 2018-03-20 14:50:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3654420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/breakeven/pseuds/breakeven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“So you’re Lydia’s friend with the dental dams?” she grins at him wolfishly, and he buries his head in his hands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	do me a favour

**Author's Note:**

> This is so silly I don't even know what orifice I pulled this out of lol. Based on a tumblr au

To no real fault of Stiles’s own, the day started off pretty strangely. Actually, to no fault of his own, this week started off pretty strangely. Scott and Allison were fighting again, which meant he was moping around their shared apartment in 4 day old boxers, and on Monday morning he somehow managed to break the cereal dispenser and spill Fruit Loops everywhere, so Stiles went through the day  malnourished. By the time he got to work at the library at 3 that afternoon, his stomach was eating itself, he had a blister on the heel of his foot, and Lydia was sending him increasingly obscene messages about all of the things she wanted to do to the girl she brought home for the weekend but could not because she was running low on dental dams.

 **Lydia: _there’s nothing to be ashamed of_**  She sends him around 6 p.m. while he’s sitting behind the circulation desk and miserably sulking his way through an anthropological history paper. He’s been working with a low thrum of a boner for the better part of 2 hours now and he really just needs to finish the damn paper but she keeps texting him and he sighs out loud before flailing in a sudden burst of anger and picking up his phone.

 **Stiles: _as you’ve been saying_** he replies, fingers slipping all over the touch screen keyboard. Bridget, the other student working the desk, glares at him over her horn rimmed glasses and he sneers right back at her. She’s rude as fuck and perpetually angry.

 **Lydia** : _**so just get some from the free clinic and BRING THEM TO ME**_

 **Stiles** : _**no???**_

**Lydia** _**: WHy not STiles? it’s just this 1 time** _

**Stiles** : **_I DON’T WANT TO?_**

 **Lydia** : _**i taught you all those bj tricks to use on adam gallagher a few months ago**_

 **Stiles** : _**….and?**_

 **Lydia** : _**so get me some dental dams so i can bone my own hot blonde**_

 **Lydia** : _**she’s so wet Stiles, and there’s only so much waiting one can do**_

 **Lydia** : _**what happened to the sanctity of friendship**_

Stiles lets his phone sit on the table next to him and vibrate viciously as he types and nods his head along to the music playing in the library. It’s of the most quality elevator tunes variety. Bridget continues glaring at him intermittently and he pretends that he doesn’t see this so that he can actually not flunk out of college.

/

By Wednesday, Lydia and her mystery blonde bombshell have finally left the comforts of Lydia’s apartment and have ventured out into the world to get dental dams on their own, or at least Stiles assumes because Lydia stops texting him lewd and erotic things during his post modernism lecture. His life has taken a turn for the less awkward when Scott finally showers and shaves his weird starving artist-esque scruff and brushes his teeth. And when he even contemplates anything having the possibility of going wrong, it’s Friday night and Lydia is once again texting him in need of fucking dental dams for the same hot blonde bombshell that Stiles has a reluctant and regretful boner for even though he has yet to meet her.

**Lydia: _pleeeeeeeeeeassssseeeeee_**

**Stiles: _wtf no_**

**Lydia: _but if you’re coming out with us tonite ur gonna need condoms anyway_**

**Lydia: _so just get dental dams while you’re there. u can trick ppl into thinking ur straight :)))_**

And so Stiles ends up at the free clinic on 5th Avenue shoving handfuls of condoms into every pocket he has (and there are a lot), that he probably won’t even use for himself but will instead hand out to every friend in need. He’s standing at the window opening waiting for someone to assist him in his quest for fucking dental dams for his occasionally bisexual best friend whose behaviour he shamefully fetishizes every once in a while and he feels as though his life could not be any more simplistically strange.

/

Saturday brings Stiles a hangover that can only be cured with more alcohol and the sad realization that the only groceries he has are Ramen noodles, watermelon, and single Arizona iced teas. He day drinks alone with WoW and saltine crackers and doesn’t do any of his literary theory work because he’s sure he can get it all done Monday morning before noon if he plays his cards just right.

/

So he plays his cards right and everything is going well except he spilled hot coffee all over his underwear clad self in the morning and had to lie on the floor and complain about it before showering, again, and treating the burns with ointment and carefully putting on pants. And he’s running across campus with a half assed second draft of a paper that is a literal 3,000 words that he cranked out in less than an hour and he knows his professor is going to have his head if she doesn’t see “some serious dedication and improvement” so he’s mildly panicked about that and he can’t find his ID to scan himself into the lecture hall at all, so this Monday is not his day. That’s fine, it’s really okay, except he’s going to be late again and that doesn’t help prove the whole dedication thing he’s supposed to be working on and he’s almost positive that he put on the pants he wore Friday night, which means there’s nothing in his pockets except a rape whistle, a few receipts and crumpled dollar bills and more than a shit ton of condoms. He finds it somehow comforting that he managed to get Lydia her dental dams.

Stiles drops his stuff in exasperation, eyes getting embarrassingly wet as he scavenges through his messenger bag in a furious manner because he really just needs to get to this next lecture as he’s on the very cusp of failing the class and he knows it’s his own fault for spending more time arguing with Lydia over contraceptives and smoking weed than analyzing literature but he’d like to at least be able to tlie to himself sometimes by saying he was in class. He’d like to be able to tell his father that he really does show up every day but there’s no one around to scan him in and he just can’t find his fucking ID card.

“I swear to every deity out there if you’ve ever loved a Stilinski a day in your eternal and wrathful existence just make this ID appear out of some kind of time warped black hole at the bottom of this bag because there's nothing I want more than to flunk out of college on my own terms, lord let it be,” he’s mumbling to himself and sort of crying just a little and he forgot his contacts so he’ll barely be able to see his own computer screen, let alone the professor’s writing on the board, when he hears a few footsteps. They’re far away and slow at first, but as the person nears they get faster and faster until the foot person’s feet are right in front of Stiles’s face and he’s looking cross eyed at a pair of expensive steel toed boots and falling into a semi humanoid position; he stops hunching his back and unfurls his fingers out of manic claws, drawing himself away from the mess of his back in a weird jerking motion and onto his feet. He wipes his eyes surreptitiously.

“Are you okay?” the owner of the expensive steel toed boots mimps, kinking an eyebrow too for good measure. Stiles opens his mouth to speak, but holy hell this guy is more gorgeous than each wonder of the world and his eyes are making Stiles incapable of holding any kind of intelligent conversation. He’s been robbed of basic motor skills too because when he goes to haul his bag off of the ground, chin still on the ground, everything inside of it, except for a human geography book and his laptop (bless), falls out and onto the ground. This mess includes about 36 XL and XXL condoms he thought were appropriate to take while stumbling home drunk down 5th Avenue. The beautiful man in front of him seems to twitch.

“Do you need to get into the building?” he’s asking cautiously, seeming to think better of reaching out to touch Stiles, who is now frozen in dysphoria and mortification. His eyes begin to water again and he clears his throat.

“U-um yeah. Could you- are you going in too?” he asks shakily. The guy looks him over once and then again before dropping to the ground, hands moving quickly as he scrambles to pick up all of the condoms off of the ground. Stiles had planned to leave them there.

The guy straightens and gives an imploring look, “I believe these are yours?”

/

Stiles does not make it to his lecture on time, but his professor takes one look at him, bloodshot, still sort of teary eyes, and a handful of condoms, with a boy apparently named “Derek Hale” accompanying him to make sure “he knew where he was going”, and she takes a thankful pity on him. He collapses into a seat and earns himself a more biting look than Bridget from the circulation desk could ever cook up from a shockingly good looking blonde girl.

“So you’re Lydia’s friend with the dental dams?” she grins at him wolfishly, and he buries his head in his hands.

/

Stiles is booking it out of the lecture hall when a body sidles up next to him, “What was up with all the condoms anyway? There was more than one size in there?” the body says to him, a laugh in its voice. Stiles rolls his eyes.

“They weren’t just for me,” he scoffs.

“Versatile then?” the guy apparently named Derek Hale says, grinning in a way that is frighteningly similar to the one he received from Erica Reyes not even an hour before. Stiles nearly chokes on his own spit.

“If that’s how you want to put it,” he croaks, and Derek laughs and Stiles wants to lick his left pectoral muscle like a fucking lollipop. They walk in a semi comfortable silence for a few feet before Derek stops abruptly.

He runs a hand through his dark hair and Stiles catches a glimpse of two bands tattooed around his wrist as he does so, “You wanna put a few of those condoms to use sometime soon?” he asks, voice unwavering and completely calm. Stiles shuffles.

“Are you asking me if I wanted to have completely safe, sane, and consensual sex with you at any given time of my choosing or are you asking me if you can have some of my condoms because either way the answer is a vehement yes and I’m not even scared to say so, I spent 20 minutes trying to work up the nerve to ask a free clinic clerk to find me some dental dams, I’ve got balls of steel at this point and my levels of shame are so low it’s actually laughable; like if you’re looking for a joke to tell at a dinner party then you should just be like “Stiles Stilinski's dignity” because let me tell you-,” he babbles and his heart is beating way too fast in his chest, he’s pretty sure his brain is getting even less oxygen than usual and he cannot shut off this word vomit for the life of him. This week has been a disaster.

“The first one,” Derek laughs, not even blinking at the onslaught of words having been through at him.

Stiles takes a giant breath, for both of their sakes.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey leave comments/kudos. follow me on twitter: uhsebstian


End file.
